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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29164077">Through The Decade</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintoKitsune/pseuds/MintoKitsune'>MintoKitsune</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fear of Flying, Flying, Herbology Class (Harry Potter), Hogsmeade, Honeydukes, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff Common Room, Hufflepuff Reader, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Quidditch, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:00:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29164077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintoKitsune/pseuds/MintoKitsune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You eyed him carefully, watching as he ate the bacon you were planning on enjoying. Irritation flickered for half a second, before you replied. “I’m going to see Cedric play.” You didn’t even have to look at your friend to see the grin spread across his features.</p><p>“It’s fine,” the twin piped up, already starting to push away with his brother. “You’ll watch me, regardless.”<br/>---<br/>A Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff Reader montage, showing their life and relationship in random scenes throughout their years. </p><p>Heavily inspired by the sister work: Through The Years, written by theonlywons.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fred Weasley/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Terrible Encounter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As mentioned in the summary, this is a sister work of another story and (with theonlywons' permission) will include very small callbacks to Through The Years. I'll link it here, if you'd like to peruse that as well!</p><p>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779693/chapters/70575531#workskin</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Year 1.</p>
<p>There was something about living up to a legacy that seemed terrifying and… damn near impossible. You weren’t sure how old you had been when they started ingraining it into your bones, but for as long as you could remember, your life had been planned out for you. </p>
<p>The first step: become a novice at flying before you could learn to walk.</p>
<p>You didn’t have to remember the first time your parents had given you a broom, because there was more than enough photographic evidence to document the moment. The portraits were hung on the walls in chronological order. You were still in diapers, your hands too grubby to really get a grip on the polished wood of the toy broom.</p>
<p>The first picture showed you ripping into the red and gold wrapping paper, your parents looking at you with expectation and joy. It took only a few seconds to expose the wood beneath the paper. That same moment captured showed your mother leaning in, whispering long forgotten words into your father’s ears. (To this day, you liked to ponder what she had said, but anytime you bothered to ask her, she waved you off.)</p>
<p>The second down the line showed you brandishing the broomstick like it was a sword. Your parent were making poor attempts to duck for cover. The moving picture itself was just shy of you actually hitting them, but the imagination did wonderful things. It was one of your favorites and had only managed to stay up there on the wall like that because you demanded it must. There was no point in poorly documenting an event, right?</p>
<p>The third picture was the largest, blown up twice the size of the others. Constantly, you ponder over what bribing they went through to even get you onto the broom, but… there it was. In all of its glory. Your small body zoomed around the frame, looking surprisingly like it belonged. The problem was, the portrait couldn’t really portray the real disaster. You no longer had the memories, but deep down you still knew. You knew without a doubt that every time your little painted self flew off of the canvas, it was documenting another terrible crash.</p>
<p>Even more notably, you could mark the dents in the walls. The missing vases. And the broken broomstick, gathering dust at the bottom of your old toy chest.</p>
<p>And portrait number four.</p>
<p>You were far too familiar with St. Mungo’s then you’d like to be. The portrait itself seemed to bring back memories of the long corridors and that terrible smell that clung to every crevice in the place. The one-toothed grin didn’t quite match the sling keeping your arm in place, but you knew it well. Even back then you had hated that broom and, though it had hurt to fall from a height like that, the fall had broken more than just your arm. It had broken the broom, as well.</p>
<p>You were seven when your parents tried again. You were a tempestuous little thing and refused to get on it, despite the countless attempts they made to coax you on to it. This time you were old enough to ride the family broomstick, only a few generations old at that point. You pretended your magic wouldn’t work, that it wouldn’t take off for you. In fact, you had pretended for so long that your parents had started to worry you weren’t going to have any magical abilities. </p>
<p>You could recall one hushed conversation between the two in the dead of night that scared you senseless.</p>
<p>“What if she’s… you know. A Squib.” Your mother carefully balanced a glass of wine between her fingers, nestling the base of the glass in her palm. She swished the liquid around half-heartedly, hardly paying it much attention.</p>
<p>Your father looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet, frowning. “Don’t say such a thing. She’s magic, you know she is.” There was the slightest hesitation in his tone though, like he wasn’t quite sure.</p>
<p>You couldn’t quite hear everything, their voices just low enough that even with your ear pressed to the door, you couldn’t make out everything. “...have to send her to your mother,” your father sighed, folding the paper over. “I don’t want--”</p>
<p>His voice cut short when you took a careless step closer, a loose floorboard making just enough noise to notify them of your presence. You scurried off to bed so fast you weren’t sure if they even saw you, but the next day you made a point to show them that you could do magic.</p>
<p>Unfortunately for them, you managed to avoid any and every broomstick they would throw your way. You kept yourself busy, playing with the other kids (most of them, much younger than you) or practicing whatever magic you could manage. And when you got your Hogwarts letter, every waking moment after was chalk full of getting ready.</p>
<p>Which leads to step number two of your parent’s perfect plan: get into Gryffindor and become a Chaser on the Quidditch team.</p>
<p>The sorting hat itself made you nervous. Your parents had told you everything there was to know about it, starting with their own experiences.</p>
<p>Your mother had been one of the last in her age group to be sorted and the way she told it, it was like she was being tortured. Her entire body shook, but not with fear as she watched the other kids clamber up onto the stool presented for them. Some, she said, would grip the stool with white knuckles. Those particular ones would take ages and during every retelling of the experience, your mother would gripe about how nightmarishly long it took. When her turn finally came up, she all but sprinted to the stool. The hat barely touched her head before it proclaimed that she, of course, would be in Gryffindor. To this day, she can still hear the cheers of her housemates. (Or so she says.)</p>
<p>Your father’s story wasn’t quite the same, and though he took a gentler approach, it usually reached the same conclusion. His had been just as quick, the hat taking no time in deciding that he was full of bravery and determination. He could better recall the walk to the table, the rest of the eleven year olds watching with fear in their eyes as he was applauded and cheered. His favorite part of that memory was when his eyes locked with a second year girl and she smiled at him. You quickly learned that that was how your parents first met.</p>
<p>The hat itself would give some sort of riddle, a quick explanation of the houses for the first years. According to your parents, it would tell you that Gryffindor was meant for those brave of heart. This was the only right house, according to them. Slytherin was forbidden, of course. It was meant for evil kids, they said. What you could gather was that the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor was unfounded. Part of you wondered what a Slytherin had to say about the other house. </p>
<p>Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had been thrown aside as secondary houses. They were unimportant. They were for the smart kids and the ones who didn’t fit into any house. “You don’t have to worry about those houses, sweetheart. We know you’ll make us proud.” Your father would always say, when you pressed him for more information about the last two houses. He would tuck your hair behind your ear and smile and you knew you were supposed to feel comforted.</p>
<p>Your palms were sweaty and you could feel your body shaking as the crowd of kids hearded you into the Great Hall. It’s ceiling was unseen. An illusion, you gathered, showcasing the starry sky outside. An abundance of hovering candles gave the Hall a yellow glow, brightly illuminating the dozens of curious faces pointed in your direction. The whole lot of you were shepherded to the front of the Great Hall and it took everything in your power not to stare back at the older kids.</p>
<p>The hat was placed on the stool and a hushed silence fell across the entire Great Hall. There was a pause. And then, just like your parents had told you, it burst into song. It didn’t seem to take nearly as long as your mother had portrayed, a quick jout about bravery and cunning and wisdom and loyalty and it was done. And then names were being called and you knew you wouldn’t have too long to wait.</p>
<p>Your last name was called and you found yourself taking a deep breath, and then a big step. Or rather… you meant to take a big step. You moved your foot forward with confidence, but something seemed to be holding it back and before you knew it, your entire body was tripping over itself. You landed on the floor just outside of the group of laughing kids, your hand scraped on the harsh ground, the cacophony of laughter echoing throughout your ears.</p>
<p>“Fred!” You heard a female voice above the laughter, scolding who you could only assume was the culprit of your tied shoelaces. But that was only followed by more laughter and you could feel the heat of anger in your ears.</p>
<p>You didn’t bother to untie the laces, instead choosing to take them off completely. You stomped the rest of the way up to the stool in your socks, your shoes clutched in your hands. You had forgotten your fear, if only for a moment, your anger pulsating through as you plopped onto the stool. Your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a guilty face, but suddenly your eyes were shrouded in fabric and a voice was echoing in your head.</p>
<p>“Ah, a legacy. How easy this will be,” the Hat mused. “But...”</p>
<p>“No no no no no,” you thought quickly, interrupting it before it could call anything out.</p>
<p>You could swear you heard the contemplative pause of the Sorting Hat, before it spoke once more. “Not Gryffindor, then? You’re plenty brave, you know.”</p>
<p>You could feel your heart pounding, threatening to beat through your chest and for a brief thought, you wondered if anybody else could hear it. “I’m more than that.” You found yourself mouthing the words, a hushed whisper that followed your thoughts.</p>
<p>“More indeed.” There was barely the slightest of pauses before the Hat started going through, listing all the ways you could fit into each house. You seemed to hold a bit of wit to you as well as an unapologetic fury. You were resourceful. You were strong. You were kind. “What then, do you want?” It finally asked. “What trait do you find most admirable?”</p>
<p>You found yourself shrugging. How could you be a good judge of your own character? You were eleven. You just wanted to be your own person. You wanted to set a path of greatness that wasn’t laid out for you. You wanted to be the kind of person that could inspire, sure, but that did so with kindness.</p>
<p>“There it is.” The voice spoke once more in your head, before calling out to the rest of the hall. “HUFFLEPUFF.”</p>
<p>The hat was whisked off of your head and you were ushered to the cheering table of older kids, some of which patted you on the back as you walked by. There, you could safely watch the rest of the kids get sorted, with a feeling of immense relief.</p>
<p>And lastly, the third step of the plan: find a nice Gryffindor boy, fall in love, and continue to produce the heroes of the next century.<br/>
You hadn’t had the pleasure of really meeting the Weasley twins, though the shoelace incident wasn’t the only time you fell victim to one of their pranks. You shared only one class with the Gryffindor first years, but had made the strong decision not to interact with them the moment the Sorting Hat had left your head. You had already disappointed your parents enough, you might as well drive the stake in the heart, so to speak.</p>
<p>Out of the bunch, the Weasley twins seemed to be the most vexing. You weren’t sure what you had done, but it seemed like one of the two (or maybe both, you couldn’t exactly tell them apart) had it out for you. That’s what it felt like, at least.</p>
<p>You might have liked Herbology if it wasn’t for those redheaded menaces, neither of whom seemed to take the class or it’s teacher seriously.</p>
<p>“Not much of a talker, are you?” There was the occasional class when Professor Sprout decided the two houses needed to intermingle. Those days, she would assign partners, if only to encourage a fair split and a familiarity between the houses. It was on one of those fateful days that you had been partnered with George Weasley.</p>
<p>“Well, we know she can say something, eh? Talked to the Sorting Hat for eons.” There was something unnerving about the two boys and the way they talked, as if they were the only two in the room deserving of attention.</p>
<p>Maybe it was because you had been conveniently placed between the two, but they were getting uncomfortably close to you as their cheshire-like grins stretched across their features. “That she did,” George replied.</p>
<p>You found yourself sighing, your fingers tightening only slightly around the Bouncing Bulb as you finally looked up from the project the two of you (two, being the key word) were supposed to be working on. “I’m trying to do the assignment,” you said simply, glaring at George.</p>
<p>That seemed to elicit an excited noise from Fred, who leaned back far enough he could look at his twin. “Yeah, Georgie. Get back to work.” You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or his brother, but either way you were irritated.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” the irritation bled through your tone as you pushed the Bulb into George’s hand, giving him no option but to hold on tight or get smacked in the face. It was only then that you turned the glare in Fred’s direction, sparing a glance to his partner. Poor Cedric seemed to be stuck dealing with their Bouncing Bulb on his own. “Did you want to switch partners, or are you capable of being without your brother for the fifteen minutes it’ll take us to re-pot this?”</p>
<p>The same excited noise left Fred’s lips one more time and he stepped out of your space, the smirk never quite leaving his features. “Easy, badger,” he said, raising his hands in what you hoped would be a real signal of peace. “I can tell when I’m not wanted. Carry on.”</p>
<p>You sighed out a thanks, before looking back to George. “Just hold that while I get the soil, please.”</p>
<p>“You got it, Captain,” George said, his playful tone giving you no comfort. Still, his hands held tight to the Bouncing Bulb.</p>
<p>You weren’t gone even five minutes. Most of the students had already gotten their soil, not having to worry about being paired with one of the notorious twins, so there wasn’t much of a line. You retrieved a bag of soil, hoping to return before the twins could get up to any trouble. Not even five minutes and already they were hunched together, whispering fervently.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” You asked, watching as they both jolted up.</p>
<p>Fred quickly hid something behind his back, but George seemed to still be holding tightly to the plant you had passed to him. “Nothing!” Fred exclaimed, turning back towards Cedric. You should have known from the split second you saw the fellow Hufflepuff’s wide eyes, but you just wanted to get this over with.</p>
<p>Your eyes moved back to George, who was trying insanely hard to look innocent. It didn’t seem like he’d quite mastered the ability to wipe the smirk off of his face just yet. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t.” He opened his lips, but you cut him off, holding a finger up. “No. Just, don’t.”</p>
<p>His lips pulled back into that same cheshire-like grin from before. “Whatever you say, Captain.”</p>
<p>You didn’t bother to give that a reply, instead opting to focus on the project at hand. Filling the pot halfway with soil, you turned back to the boy, who seemed to be looking intently at you. Sighing, you held your hands out for the Bulb. George placed the item carefully into your hands, waiting for you to close them completely around it before letting go.</p>
<p>“Okay. I’ll place it in the pot and hold it there, while you…” Something didn’t quite feel right. The bulb before had been almost waxy, but the item you held in your hands was anything but. It was almost scratchy. You opened up your palms to find yourself staring at what looked to be a giant ball of glitter. You barely opened your mouth to question it when the ball exploded, showering you and everyone in the near proximity in glitter.</p>
<p>You got the brunt of it, of course. The glitter clung to every surface in an unnatural way, sticking to your robes and skin like it had been adhered to them. The twins had gotten glitter stuck to them, too, but they didn’t seem to mind as much. Your partner, the culprit, howled with laughter, uncaring that his own red hair was just as covered in glitter as yours was. The other twin had crouched behind Cedric, who looked just as flummoxed.</p>
<p>Sprout ended class early that day, to your fortune. You stomped out of the greenhouse with the rest of your house, ignoring the stares from the other students as you ranted to Cedric about the stupid prank. </p>
<p>“I just-” You groaned, trying to shake the glitter from your hair. “I can’t believe them. When did George even get a bewitched glitter bomb?”</p>
<p>“Fred.” Cedric replied, looking almost sheepish under the glitter.</p>
<p>You raised an eyebrow, though you doubted he could see it. “Excuse me?”</p>
<p>Cedric stopped, looking around. “They switched places. I- I tried to tell you, but… It was Fred.”</p>
<p>You could hear still that stupid laugh echoing out across the grass. The twins seemed to be recanting the tale to anybody who would listen, causing more stares to come your way. You were grateful to the glitter if only to hide the heat that started to spread across your cheeks, the anger once more sprouting its head.</p>
<p>But that hadn’t been the worst of it. You could barely get through a week without one of the Weasley twins pulling some sort of prank. Whether it was assisting Peeves in tracking down the hard to find students, or setting off a dungbomb in Filch’s office, the twins were always up to no good. You had been on the opposite of a few of them as well, though nothing was quite as bad as being covered in glitter.</p>
<p>Except that fateful night at dinner.</p>
<p>It always felt so crowded in the Great Hall, especially during supper. Most students were allowed to come and go as they pleased, arriving late if they got stuck studying or excusing themselves early if they had their fill. First years weren’t quite awarded that luxury, though for the most part that was because there was always a fear of them getting lost.</p>
<p>Seating was done by house, which was just fine by you. You had become fast friends with Cedric since the Glitter Incident (of which you did not speak), and tended to spend most of your time eating with him. The both of you had parents to impress, but the way Cedric spoke about Amos made you wonder if your parents were really all that alike.</p>
<p>“Wait.” Cedric spoke through a mouthful of food, if only to stop you from your Quidditch related rant. You paused, patiently waiting for him to finish chewing before he continued. “How can you hate Quidditch?”</p>
<p>You shrugged, grabbing yourself another serving of potatoes. “I don’t hate it, exactly. I just don’t get the appeal? I mean, it’s just a bunch of people flying after balls.”</p>
<p>Cedric shook his head furiously. “It’s so much more than that. It’s the most compelling sport the Wizarding World has ever seen!”</p>
<p>“Flying after balls, Diggory,” you teased, bumping your shoulder into his as you poured some gravy on your potatoes.</p>
<p>Cedric grabbed his own second helping of treacle tart, continuing to talk as he did so. “Just watch. One day I’ll be Seeker for the Appleby Arrows and I’ll force you to come to every tournament, and then you’ll have to love it.”</p>
<p>You laughed, shaking your head. “You have to make the Hufflepuff team first, you know. Maybe we should start small, yeah?” </p>
<p>You were too caught up in your conversation to really notice anything else going on in the Hall, though you were vaguely aware of some of the teachers pacing around the room. Most of them would retire when they had finished eating, but some would keep a closer eye on the students as a night came to a close.</p>
<p>You started digging into the plate full of mashed potatoes in front of you, noting the grin on Cedric’s face next to you. “I’m gonna try out next year. Oh! You can help-”</p>
<p>Cedric was never able to finish his sentence. It wasn’t his fault, or yours, really. One moment you were spooning mashed potatoes into your mouth and the next you were watching as several objects landed on your plate. It took only a second to realize what they were, but a second was all the firework needed. They were Filibuster fireworks, already sparking and covered in your gravy.</p>
<p>Your eyes moved up, looking just in time to see a smirking Weasley looking at you, before the fireworks exploded and your face was coated in mashed potatoes. It was the final straw. Another public humiliation, courtesy of the Weasley Twins. Or, more specifically, Fred. You slammed your fists on the table and stood up, glowering at the twins. You couldn’t tell the two apart just yet, but you could only imagine that Fred was the one howling with laughter. (Both of them were laughing, but one was definitely having more of a go at it.) “Fred Weasley, I swear, I’m going to-”</p>
<p>“Going to what?” The voice of Severus Snape echoed throughout the hall, the chatter of other voices falling to a near deafening silence. You fell silent yourself, gaping at the teacher through the mashed potatoes that were starting to slop off of your face and onto the table. “Detention.” He said, his tone cold and unforgiving.</p>
<p>“But, I-” You started to protest, pointing towards Fred. It should have been obvious enough that you had no part in it, but it was clear that Snape didn’t care.</p>
<p>His cold glare was enough to stop you in your tracks, before he turned to the twins. “You too, Mr. Weasley. Saturday. Five o’clock.” He looked at you one more time. “Don’t be late.”</p>
<p>Needless to say, things weren’t going exactly as your parents had planned it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Terrible Two's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's your second year and you seek some well needed advice.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! I'll probably plus this every time, but this work is directly related to (and inspired by) the ongoing fic by theonlywons, titled Through The Years. You can check that out here! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779693/chapters/70575531)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Year 1.</p>
<p>Detention with Professor Snape wasn’t exactly something to be desired, but it was only made worse by having to do it with Fred. You almost hoped he wouldn’t even show, but to your surprise and chagrin, he showed up with mere seconds to spare. Snape directed the both of you down to the Potions classroom, where various different ingredients had been placed on his desk. He informed you that the both of you would be preparing the ingredients for his other classes, cutting them into smaller pieces, so they could fit in the jars off to the side.</p>
<p>He finished gesturing to the ingredients with a sweep of his arm. “I’ll check in on you in an hour. I expect you’ll make progress by then?”</p>
<p>“You’re leaving us alone?” You asked, looking between Snape and Fred. On one hand, not having to worry about Snape breathing down your neck sounded amazing. On the other, you really didn’t like that look itching across Fred’s face.</p>
<p>Snape sneered at you. “It is your punishment. Not mine.” Without another word, he pushed out of the classroom, leaving you and Fred to your own devices.</p>
<p>You sighed, grabbing a handful of the ingredients, taking them to the nearest desk. This was the last place you wanted to be, but you were already here so you might as well try and get out as soon as possible. Fred didn’t seem to have the same sentiment, sidling up to the desk you sat at.</p>
<p>You looked up at him, glaring. “Are you going to even bother helping?” Your eyes didn’t bother to linger. Already you were working on cutting up some of the ingredients, careful not to nick yourself in the process. </p>
<p>Fred’s laugh echoed around the dungeon classroom. It was probably more charming in his own mind, but your irritation only seemed to grow. Did this boy have any idea the trouble he caused you throughout the year? Prank after stupid prank made you a public laughing stock, to say the very least. </p>
<p>“You don’t seem like the type to ask for help,” he mused, seemingly unaware of the heat pushing across your cheeks.</p>
<p>“Excuse me?” You asked, the anger burning through your tone. </p>
<p>Fred sat on the desk itself, kicking his feet out. “I mean like in Herbology. You didn’t ask for help, you just told me what to do.” He seemed thoughtful, but the glint in his eyes never quite died down. “You’re kinda bossy.” The way he said it might have sounded like a compliment, if you weren’t so angry just then.</p>
<p>You stood from where you sat, fast enough to send some of the ingredients flying to the ground and nearly knocking Fred off of his stoop as well. “I am not bossy,” you started, fuming. “You,” you pushed a finger into his chest, “are horrible. You humiliated me in front of the entire school, <i>twice</i>.” Fred started to attempt to protest, but you quieted him by simply continuing your rant. “Do you even think about the consequences of your pranks? Throw some glitter at some girl and the whole class laughs, don’t they? Well, news flash, I <i>don’t</i> find them funny.”</p>
<p>“Hey, hey,” Fred jumped in, raising his hands. He stood up from the desk (you assumed in an attempt to feel taller), but you had the height advantage just then. You knew one day that would be different, but it felt good being taller than him just then. “I didn’t mean-”</p>
<p>You interrupted whatever it was he was going to say, the anger pushing through any sensibility. “I had glitter in my hair for weeks! I’ll never get it out of those robes, and that’s your fault!” Once more you shoved your finger into his chest, allowing him to stumble back against the desk, his mouth agape. “Just- do this yourself. I’ll take detention some other day.” </p>
<p>You stormed from the room before you could change your mind or before the fear of Snape could chase you back into the room. Your anger pushed your footsteps out of the dungeons as fast as they could go until you wound up near the kitchens, finding yourself out of breath.</p>
<p>Back in the Potion’s classroom, Fred leaned his full weight on the desk. He couldn’t explain the pounding in his heart. Adrenaline, maybe? And the flush in his cheeks had to be embarrassment; nothing else. “She’s something else,” he breathed, his eyes tracking down to the ingredients on the floor. He proceeded to spend the rest of the hour finishing the job, saving that outspoken Hufflepuff from having to suffer another Snapetastic detention.</p>
<p>What Fred didn’t do, though, was leave you alone. Your first year came to a close without any other incidents. But unbeknownst to you, the rest of your Hogwarts experience would be filled with stunts just as horrifying and exciting.</p>
<p>Year 2.</p>
<p>After a summer filled with grief over you not being a Gryffindor, you were all too excited to go back to school. So excited, you almost forgot about those red-headed twins and the shenanigans they seemed to constantly pull. Almost.</p>
<p>You spotted them first as you entered the train station. They seemed to be teasing another young red-headed boy, who had his arms crossed. </p>
<p>“Mum, tell them to stop,” the younger boy said, hiding behind the woman you could only assume was their mother.</p>
<p>“Oh, boys, leave Ron alone.” She didn’t seem to even pause to breathe before she continued on. “Now, let’s try to get in less trouble this year. I’m sure your father would be--”</p>
<p>“We know, mum!” The twins seemed to say simultaneously, both kissing her on one cheek. She opened her mouth to say more, but they were both boarding already, hastily waving back at her. One of them added a quick, “I’ll nick something good for you, for Christmas!” But they were out of sight before she could protest.</p>
<p>You shook your head, oddly comforted that it wasn’t just you that was flabbergasted by the shenanigans they seemed to get into. Most people you met were more just amused by it all, but then again, most of those people hadn’t been targeted by them either. Still, you were determined not to let this year go like the last. If that meant avoiding those twins like the plague, then so be it.</p>
<p>That was what you told yourself as you boarded the train, but Fate herself seemed to be laughing at you when you opened the door to the first carriage to find yourself staring straight at two full heads of red hair. You still couldn’t quite tell them apart, but one twin sat on either side, both of their heads tossed back in unison at some joke or other. A Slytherin girl sat next to one of them, also laughing.</p>
<p>You froze, long enough that their laughter died down and one of the twins (the one next to the Slytherin girl) started to open their mouth. “Hey, it’s-” The other redhead kicked the first and before you could even hear the cry of pain, you shut the door with a bang. Their laughs echoed around as you paced quickly through the train corridor, until you determined it was safe to try again.</p>
<p>The next few doors you opened were full of students, most of which seemed comfortable sitting with their friends. Even Cedric seemed to be in a full car, though he was surrounded by girls. He gave you an apologetic smile, but you waved him off and kept moving back.</p>
<p>It was one of the last cars that you tried, that finally had room for you. Only two people sat in the car, one on each side of the carriage. One of them was a Ravenclaw girl that you briefly recognized, though she was only a year older than you. The other was an older boy who sported an all too familiar red head. You could only assume he was a Weasley. You had caught them mid-conversation, the girl giggling at something the boy had said.</p>
<p>“Oh, sorry,” You murmured, already backing out of the carriage. It was probably the last empty car at this point, but it felt like you were intruding on a moment you didn’t belong in.</p>
<p>“Hey, no,” the girl spoke up, reaching out to the empty seat beside her. “Please, sit with us. We don’t mind, right Percy?”</p>
<p>The redhead (Percy Weasley, you presumed) offered you his own smile. “No, not at all.” His eyes seemed to bore into yours for a second as you shut the door behind you and sat down. “You’re potato girl, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Dread filled your expression and for the most fleeting of moments, you considered laying down on the track in front of the train. “Please tell me that’s not what people are calling me,” you replied.</p>
<p>Your tone must have indicated the horror you felt, because Percy laughed, his shorter, curly hair bouncing as he did so. “No, no. Just Fred and George. Which means it’s picked up at the Burrow, but-” Penelope kicked at Percy and he promptly stopped talking, his ears turning the color of his hair. “Sorry, no.”</p>
<p>“What he means to say,” Penelope jumped in, noting how uncomfortable the both of you were, “is that it’s just the twins. Right, Percy?” She looked at the Gryffindor, who seemed relieved for the help.</p>
<p>He bobbed his head quickly. “Definitely. It’s- they’re a menace, I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>You sighed, sliding towards the window. At least this Weasley seemed nice, if not a bit on the prim and proper side. His red hair was kept in tight curls close to his face.</p>
<p>“It’s not your fault.” Just then, an idea struck you. “Hey, you’re their older brother, right?” You didn’t want to admit how much you already knew about their family. That would mean having to admit that you paid attention to the twins.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Percy replied. “One of them, at least.” He paused, curiosity getting the best of him. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Couldn’t you get them to stop?” You asked, unashamed to admit that there was hope on your face. “I gave Fred a piece of my mind, but I can’t imagine that’ll get him to leave me alone. But maybe they’ll listen to you.”</p>
<p>Percy laughed, but there was no humor in his tone. “No. I-” He sat forward, clasping his hands together. “Trust me when I say, I get it. I might be older, but it’s fair to say I’ve gotten close to the brunt of their pranks.” He shook his head. “They wouldn’t listen to me.”</p>
<p>“But-”</p>
<p>He shook his head again, all but silencing your protests. “If anything, it’d just make it worse for both of us.”</p>
<p>You sat back with a groan, watching as Percy did the same, resting his hands on his lap. “Is this just going to be it then? I’ll have to watch out for fanged frisbees and dung bombs for the rest of my school career?” Maybe you were being a smidge dramatic, but you had kind of hoped there’d be an end somewhere.</p>
<p>Percy shrugged. “I’d give you advice, but I’ve suffered twelve years without any reprieve. Best I’ve got is ignoring them and hoping they pick on our youngest brother instead. Which I’m not exactly proud of.” He grimaced and Penelope giggled.</p>
<p>“They’re just trying to get attention,” she offered, though that wasn’t exactly news to you. “Percy’s right, though. If you don’t give them that attention, they’ll move on.”</p>
<p>You cringed, thinking back to the last time you’d actually interacted. “Does yelling at him count?” You asked, knowing immediately from the rueful smile that Penelope offered that it definitely counted. “Great. Cool. I’ll try ignoring him, then.”</p>
<p>“Good luck,” Percy offered. From the sounds of it, you would need it.</p>
<p>Ignoring Fred was much harder than it sounded. The pranks returned tenfold and though they seemed to come from both of the twins, you definitely noticed on more than one occasion that one boy laughed harder than the other. You also noticed that it wasn’t just you, though that didn’t do much to ease the irritation. They would prank just about anybody unprompted, but some students seemed to get special treatment. You were one of them. Percy was another, you noticed.</p>
<p>All in all, the pranks were rather harmless. But just like your first year, that anger threatened to rear its ugly head. So you clenched your fists and you gritted your teeth and you took deep breaths. But no matter how many times you ignored the twins, they just kept pestering you.</p>
<p>Still, you held strong. Until that day. Cedric’s first Quidditch game, when Hufflepuff played Gryffindor.</p>
<p>It was the first game of the season and excitement buzzed all around. Already students were filing down to the arena, though the players themselves were still eating. Cedric had hardly touched his food, the poor guy was so nervous, but you continued to fill his plate in hopes that he’d eat something.</p>
<p>“Come on, it can’t be that bad.” You spoke through a mouthful of breakfast, nudging at his plate. “Look, the chances of you making a complete fool of yourself are slim to none. If anything, someone else will make a fool of you.”</p>
<p>“Haha. That makes me feel so much better,” Cedric shot back, his tone lightening up from the look on his face.</p>
<p>You smiled almost cheekily at him, pointing to his plate once more. It wasn’t until he actually started digging in that you started speaking again. “What are you gonna do when you’re some famous Quidditch player? Didn’t you say you wanted to play for the Appleby’s?” Cedric seemed to look affronted, but his mouth was full of food which allowed you to continue. “You gotta keep a cool face for that cute Ravenclaw girl you keep making eyes at. What’s her name again?”</p>
<p>Finally, Cedric managed to swallow down his food, shoving at you with his elbow for good measure. “Shut up,” he replied. You laughed, shoving back. </p>
<p>“Coming to see me play?”</p>
<p>You’d recognize that voice anywhere, though you weren’t pleased to know that. Your eyes traced up to see both of the Weasley twins standing on the other side of the table, a set of matching smirks on their faces. Your eyes flickered between the two. </p>
<p>“No,” you replied, your tone suddenly devoid of emotion. That was part of the ignoring thing. Showing no emotion.</p>
<p>One of the twins leaned in enough to steal a slice of bacon from your plate. “Awe,” he pouted. “You aren’t going?”</p>
<p>You eyed him carefully, watching as he ate the bacon you were planning on enjoying. Irritation flickered for half a second, before you replied. “I’m going to see Cedric play.” You didn’t even have to look at your friend to see the grin spread across his features.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” the twin piped up, already starting to push away with his brother. “You’ll watch me, regardless.”</p>
<p>You watched with a scoff as he walked away, turning just in time to see Cedric’s grin grow wider. “Think he’ll botch the game, trying to impress you?”</p>
<p>You rolled your eyes. “You wish.”</p>
<p>You both finished your breakfast, Cedric racing off to get into his uniform as soon as you were done. You moved through the crowd, looking for a decent place to watch the game. Most of the good seats had already been filled, but you managed to find your way to the front of the stadium. It wasn’t long then before both of the teams were being ushered out, players being announced as they flew onto the field.</p>
<p>The commentator, a seventh year, sat next to a nervous Gryffindor boy that you knew to be Lee Jordan. The older student spoke eloquently, announcing the students, while still giving Lee a chance to pipe up. He seemed nervous, but you didn’t think that’d last very long.</p>
<p>“And they’re taking off,” the seventh year announced, as a flurry of red and yellow streaked through the air. Both of the commentators echoed around, the seventh year giving Lee Jordan a chance to find his own voice, as the players flitted around the field. Gryffindor’s team was strong, taking the quaffle right from the start and instantly stealing the lead, but the Hufflepuff players did what they could to keep it close.</p>
<p>You didn’t really care much for the sport, personally, so your eyes instead followed your friend, who was zooming in and out of the chaos in search of the Golden Snitch. At one point, a bludger nearly hit him and you felt yourself gasp. A second later, a streak of red was flying by and one of the twins sent a massive grin towards the stands, where you stood.</p>
<p>“Geor- No, Fred, sends a bludger towards Hufflepuff’s seeker, and-” </p>
<p>“It’s sent right back to him! Good shot from Hufflepuff’s Beater,” the two commentators were playing off of each other well, but you hardly noticed their voices anymore.</p>
<p>Instead, right up on the edge of the stadium, you could hear Fred calling out. “George!” He shouted, getting his brother’s attention. “Send it down!” While his voice carried out across the field, the shout sounded distant from the wind picking up. Still, his brother saluted his confirmation.</p>
<p>Fred swung the bat, connecting it with the bludger long enough to send it directly to his brother. Then, without any hesitation, he started to deep dive to the ground. George only had a second to make his own impact, sending the bludger in the direction of Fred’s retreating form.</p>
<p>A part of you knew that rationally, they had to have practiced this. But even still, you found yourself gasping, nearly leaning over the edge of the stadium to keep your eyes on the Gryffindor Beater. He kept getting closer and closer to the ground and you worried he wouldn’t be able to pull his broom up in time, or that the bludger would reach him first. But at the very last possible second, he pulled up on his broom and swung his bat, sending the bludger directly up towards one of the Hufflepuff Chaser’s.</p>
<p>Your heart was pounding so loud you couldn’t hear the cheers from the Gryffindor stands at the stunt, your eyes connecting with Fred’s as he flew back up. “Told you, you’d watch!” He shouted, sending a wink in your direction before taking off towards the next bludger. Heat flushed through your face once more, but you were acutely aware that this wasn’t anger. Well, maybe part of it was.</p>
<p>The rest of the match went pretty quickly. You tried to keep your eyes on your friend, but every once in a while, you couldn’t help but look for the twins to see whatever they were getting up to. They were flashy players, you told yourself. That was the only reason why.</p>
<p>Gryffindor won, with Charlie Weasley catching the Snitch. Cedric had done a good job at finding the small flying ball, but Charlie was said to be one of the best Seeker’s of his time. It wasn’t exactly a fair match. Still, you found yourself pushing past the crowd heading back to the castle, so you could meet Cedric outside of the locker rooms.</p>
<p>Most students were eager to get back to the warmth of the castle, so by the time any of the players exited the locker room, you were the only one standing outside. Unfortunately, Cedric was not the first person to leave the locker room.</p>
<p>“Come to tell me how cool I was?”</p>
<p>You ignored the twin, intentionally focusing your eyes on the Hufflepuff locker room. They both stepped into your line of sight and you cast your eyes downwards, as if you were suddenly interested in the dew dripping off of the grass.</p>
<p>“Helloooo?” He called out again, crowding your space until there wasn’t anywhere you could look where you wouldn’t see him. “Well, come on, then.”</p>
<p>The other twin shoved his hand into his pockets, a softer grin spread across his lips. “Wood nearly lost his cool over that stunt-” George started, his brother piping in to finish the sentence.</p>
<p>“-it’s a good thing he’s not Captain until next year. We would have been grounded for the rest of the game.”</p>
<p>George nodded enthusiastically and Fred pulled away just enough to give you room to breathe. You sighed and he smiled, seeming to take that as any sort of acknowledgement.</p>
<p>You narrowed your eyes at the two, letting them land on Fred. “I told you, I came to watch Cedric. I couldn’t care less what you two get up to.”</p>
<p>“But you do, though. Don’t you?” It was a feigned innocence in Fred’s voice, that much you knew. You both knew very well that there had been at least one moment in that game where you cared. But you continued to rationalize that you’d be concerned about any student putting themselves in danger.</p>
<p>You huffed out another sigh, looking past him to see Cedric leaving the locker room. “No,” you replied quickly, shouldering past him to catch up to your friend.</p>
<p>You were long out of earshot when Fred turned back to George, his smile stretching across his lips in a cheshire-like fashion. “I think I’ll call that a win, Georgie. Wouldn’t you?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please leave kudos or a comment if you liked this! Chapter 3 will be up on March 2nd. ^-^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Spot The Difference</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You realize it might be a good idea to learn how to tell the twins apart.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! I'll probably plug this every time, but this work is directly related to (and inspired by) the ongoing fic by theonlywons, titled Through The Years. You can check that out here! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779693/chapters/70575531)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Year 3.</p>
<p>The Hufflepuff Common Room was tucked away in the basement, almost directly under the Great Hall. Much like Slytherin’s common room, it’s actual entrance was unknown to those who didn’t reside there. It was a well kept secret within the Hufflepuff students and therefore was just as impenetrable as the other common rooms, though the password never actually changed.</p>
<p>It was a cozy little room, filled with plants and laughter, the roaring fireplace always giving the basement common room some warmth. You loved the place more than your own home, finding the loyalty and kindness between your own housemates to be just as welcoming. It felt nice, belonging to a place that wasn’t connected to your parents or that legacy that they even still tried to push on you.</p>
<p>You had been on your way to that very common room when you next saw the Weasley twins. They were huddled near the barrels that led down into the common room, whispering. As you neared closer, you realized one of them was covered in vinegar.</p>
<p>You laughed, unable to hold back the joy as seeing either of the twins looking as pitiful as they did just then. Both of their heads snapped up simultaneously, one of them instantly wearing a shit-eating grin.</p>
<p>“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Hufflepuff!” He exclaimed. They both moved away from the barrels to stand on either side of you. They had both grown over the summer, but they still didn’t have the height gain over you. Instead, you were about head to head with them.</p>
<p>You winkled your nose at the smell of vinegar, specifically turning towards the one with the drenched hair. “Any specific reason you smell like vinegar?” You asked, knowing full well the reason why. The twins were trying to find the Hufflepuff common room. But you couldn’t let them know that they were close.</p>
<p>“That’s an interesting question,” the dry one started, pulling away to stand in front of you.</p>
<p>“With an equally interesting answer,” the wet one piped up, moving to stand next to his brother.</p>
<p>“You see. George here was feeling ill-”</p>
<p>Fred (the dry one) gestured to his brother, who merely said, “-Very, very ill,” while he clutched his stomach.</p>
<p>Fred continued. “So I was hoping to find the kitchens to get him some soup, like mum likes to make.”</p>
<p>You weren’t sure if it was intentional, but their manner of speaking was making you dizzy with how often you had to switch which brother you were looking at. “But I bumped into those barrels, you see. And suddenly I was sopping wet.”</p>
<p>“Sopping,” Fred confirmed.</p>
<p>You weren’t stupid. George was acting far too well for a guy who was supposedly sick and the twins were looking at you like they were expecting something. You took a second to look thoughtful, before nodding. “I see. Well,” you reached out to pat George’s shoulder, smiling at the two. “You look much better now, so you can head back to your own dormitory now, I’m sure?” It was a fake smile if there ever was one, but you didn’t care if they knew that.</p>
<p>The twins exchanged looks before their eyes fell on you again, Fred shaking his head wildly. “Can’t,” he said, simply.</p>
<p>“Oh?” You replied, quirking an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“George feels so sick he can barely stand,” Fred said matter of factly. And like clockwork, George was keeling over, clutching his stomach. It was so obviously an act, you knew this wouldn’t work on… well, anybody. Clearly there was more to the act. “If only there was somewhere he could lie down or something, just until he feels better. Oh! The Hufflepuff Common room is nearby, isn’t it? I don’t s’pose you’d help the poor guy out, would you?”</p>
<p>There it was. It was still an act and an easy one to see through, but there was more to this than that. Calling them out on the lie would only make them act more dramatic, probably enough to tell the school about how you heartlessly abandoned George during his time of need. You closed your eyes briefly, letting out a deep sigh.</p>
<p>When you opened your eyes, you could see the two peering at you, barely containing their glee at the thought that you were already giving in. “Alright,” you said, slinging George’s arm over your shoulder, acting as you would if he had actually been sick. “Follow me.”</p>
<p>You let the boys down the hallway, but not towards the barrels that would have led to your common room. You led them to the portrait hanging on the wall a couple feet away where the entrance to the kitchens lay. Reaching up with your spare hand, you tickled the pear and watched as a handle formed on the portrait. </p>
<p>Without saying another word, you pulled the door open and led them into the kitchens. It was Fred who spoke next, confusion in his eyes. “This isn’t--”</p>
<p>“You said you needed a place for George to lay down, right?” You interrupted, smiling through your teeth. “Well, I’m sure the house elves would love to put down some cushions for him. Plus, they can get you that soup you were so keen on having, yeah?”</p>
<p>Neither of the twins got the chance to respond because in the blink of an eye, they were being surrounded by the house-elves of the kitchen, being asked if there was anything they wanted. You knew this from the many times you had snuck into the kitchens, that the house-elves were almost too eager to help any student they encountered. It was during this chaos that you snuck away, slipping into your common room before the twins could even notice you were gone.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div>Though this was only your third year at Hogwarts, you had a long standing tradition of staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. Snow would fall heavily in the weeks to come, making the common room feel cozier with every passing day. Most of your classmates (Cedric included) went home, preferring to spend the break with their family, but you didn’t mind. You kind of liked the peace and quiet.<p>You slept in on Christmas morning, only waking when the sun started to pour through the curtains of the dormitory windows. Yawning, you pulled yourself sleepily from the bed, your eyes falling on the presents resting at the foot of your bed. You felt sick at the sight of the packages laying there, particularly noticing the thin, long parcel that could be from nobody else but your parents. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you shuffled towards the package, pulling the wrapping paper from it to reveal the broomstick underneath. A letter, which had been attached to the gift itself, slipped to the floor. You picked it up, reading the contents.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>“Give it another try, please. For us? Maybe you’ll make the team!<br/>
Love, Mum &amp; Dad.”</i>
  </p>
</div>You rested the Cleansweep Seven on the bed, wondering if it’d be okay to just regift the thing. You had no intention of using it, but your parents had to know that. They hadn’t tried to give you another since that fateful incident in your childhood.<p>The next gift was a box of sugar quills from Penelope, followed by a new Exploding Snap deck gifted by Cedric. You hadn’t expected anything else, so you were surprised to see one last gift laying at the foot of your four-poster. The thing was wrapped poorly, it was impossible to tell what it was. It was round and lumpy, but that could have just been the wrapping. A small note lay on top of it, only four words sprawled across in a messy handwriting.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>“-From your favorite Weasley.”</i>
  </p>
</div>Curious, you picked up the small gift, pulling away the paper cautiously. Inside was a potato. Immediately you were brought back to your first year, when Fred had thrown a Filibuster Firework into your mashed potatoes. Your face burned hot as you stomped out of the common room, irritation building as you looked at the stupid gift still gripped tight in your hand.<p>You stormed up towards the Gryffindor tower, unsure exactly of how you were going to find him, or what you were going to do when you did. You weren’t angry, necessarily, though you could feel your adrenaline spiking as if you were. More specifically, you were tired of this unnecessary hair pulling. Ignoring clearly wasn’t doing the trick, so you decided to try a more head on tactic. As it would be, you had nearly reached the portrait leading up to the Gryffindor tower when you saw three heads of red hair moving in your direction.</p>
<p>Fred, George, and Percy Weasley all seemed to be making their way towards you. Percy was stuck between the twins, the three of them wearing near matching sweaters. The twin’s specifically were blue, each adorning a letter. One of them had an F and the other had a G. You were at least grateful that you knew who exactly you were coming for.</p>
<p>“Hey!” you shouted, throwing the potato directly at Fred. He turned to face you as it soared through the air, a look of confusion in his eyes. And though you were rubbish on a broomstick, your aim was true and hit its target with purpose, causing the twin to let go of his older brother and stop, his cheshire like grin spreading across his lips once again. You didn’t let this stop you from continuing. “First of all, <i>fuck you</i>. You have been picking on me since our first year and I’m done tolerating it. I don’t want your stupid gift, Fred, so… there. You have it back now.” You let out a deep breath, before adding, “Also, <i>Percy</i> is my favorite Weasley.” </p>
<p>You gestured almost wildly with your hands while you talked, if only to hide the way you wanted to shake at the confrontation. You were so focused on yelling at Fred that you didn’t notice the shocked (and amused) looks on the faces of the others. Later, you would wonder if Percy wanted to take away points from Hufflepuff for your language, but that didn’t seem to be a concern just then. Your eyes were on Fred and Fred only.</p>
<p>Who had seemed to morph his face from amusement, back into one of confusion. “Sorry,” he started, rubbing at the spot where the potato had hit him. “I’m not Fred, I’m George.”</p>
<p>A look of horror passed over your own features and you took a step back, clutching at your pajamas. You had been so caught up in the moment that you hadn’t even taken the time to change. Mortification was settling deep into your soul. “Oh god.” You shook your head, looking at the sweater with the F on it, then back to his face. You shouldn’t have put it past the twins to switch sweaters, just for the fun of it. “I’m so sorry.”</p>
<p>He took another step forward, his hand reaching out to comfort you. It landed on your shoulder, the confusion slipping into a soft smile before slipping into a devilish grin. “Only kidding, I am Fred.”</p>
<p>And like a switch, you were actually angry, this time at being tricked. You groaned, pushing at the twin. </p>
<p>He staggered back, laughing.</p>
<p>You turned to walk away, ignoring him as he called out to you. “Hey!” Fred shouted. “Nice pajamas!”</p>
<p>You couldn’t face Fred after, half out of embarrassment and half out of fear that he’d pull a similar stunt by pretending to be George. There was, of course, the same kind of fear that you’d actually wind up yelling at George. It wasn’t until a week later that it even dawned on you that there might be a way to tell them apart.</p>
<p>It was a Saturday morning and the majority of the school was taking the day to enjoy the fresh snow outside. Peering out the window, you could see Professor Quirrel being bombarded by a flurry of snowballs. You quickly noticed Fred and George trailing not far behind, bewitching the snow to chase after his turban. Cedric sat by the lake, pretending to be immersed in his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages while a Ravenclaw girl built a snowman nearby with her friends. Everybody seemed to be enjoying the day, but not you. You were on a mission.</p>
<p>You found Percy Weasley in the library, pouring over a pile of books. He was studying for his O.W.L.S. His short curls were much more disheveled than they usually were, but you knew the prefect had nothing to worry about. He was a smart kid who would most likely ace all of the tests, even if he didn’t study like this.</p>
<p>You moved to his table quietly, side stepping a few other fifth years who looked just as (if not more) stressed as Percy. You pulled out the chair across from him and slipped into it, waiting patiently for him to notice your presence. </p>
<p>He looked up, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “Shouldn’t you be out enjoying the day?” He asked.</p>
<p>“Actually, I was hoping to ask you for a favor,” you whispered in response, leaning forward so he could hear you better.</p>
<p>Percy cocked an eyebrow. It was a response that could have easily been read as Percy just being pompous, but you knew it to be a sign to go on.</p>
<p>You tapped your fingers on the table, grimacing. “Could you teach me how to tell Fred and George apart?” You paused for an answer, but at the confusion on Percy’s face, you continued on. “I just mean, Fred seems to have it out for me and ignoring isn’t doing anything, but the last thing I want is to mistake him for George or vice versa. It’d make things a lot easier if I knew who was who.”</p>
<p>He seemed to consider your words for a second, his eyes dropping down to his books one last time before he snapped them shut. “Alright, but not here. Better to not disturb the peace, and all.”</p>
<p>You grinned at Percy, helping him gather his books, before the both of you left the library. You followed him up a few flights of stairs, talking lightly about his O.W.L.S and the classes you hoped to take the next year. You narrowly avoided Peeves, finally finding an empty, unused classroom. </p>
<p>“This should do nicely,” Percy said, setting his bag on the floor next to him. You followed suit, the both of you taking a desk near the front so you could sit while talking. Silently, he reached into his bag, pulling out an empty parchment, followed by a quill and ink.</p>
<p>Stupidly, you wondered if he wanted you to take notes, but not a moment later he was pulling out his wand and his quill was moving on its own, seeming to sketch his two brothers. “It can be hard to spot if you’re not looking for it, but they’re actually quite different,” Percy said, letting his quill do the work while he talked.</p>
<p>Your eyes flickered between the moving quill and the older Weasley, who seemed surprisingly in his element as he spoke. His tone took one of authority and passively you noted that he could make a good teacher.</p>
<p>“Fred actually has sharper features than George, if you pay enough attention. Especially in the jawline, here,” He waited as the quill moved out of the way before hovering his finger over the parchment so as not to smear the ink. “George’s hair is also a smidge shorter. I couldn’t tell you if that’s intentional, or mum’s fault.”</p>
<p>You listened intently, watching as Percy outlined the subtle, but easily seen features of the twins that could separate them, nodding in kind when he looked at you for a response. His quill stopped fairly early in, coming to rest on the edge of the paper as it did so.</p>
<p>“Really, they’re not as alike as everybody makes them out to be. The more time you spend with them, the more you realize. They only seem that way because they balance each other out and share a love for driving people crazy.” There was a fondness in Percy’s tone, though it just as quickly switched to irritation. He seemed to have remembered one of the many occasions that he was the target of their pranks.</p>
<p>You took one last look at the sketch of the twins. Though you hadn’t spotted it in the beginning, you could actually see the small differences between the twin’s physical appearance. “Thank you,” you said in response, rolling up the parchment now that the ink had dried. “Seriously. I have a feeling that this is going to save me a lot of hassle in the future.”</p>
<p>Percy nodded, smiling. “It’s really no problem,” he said, gathering up his supplies. Opening his bag, he shoved the ink and quill into their own separate pouch. In the corner of one of the pockets of the bag, you saw the corner of a picture sticking out. In the brief second you looked, you could see a blonde head duck out of the way.</p>
<p>You grinned, nudging Percy with your foot. “So, are you and Penelope a thing, yet?” You asked, teasing.</p>
<p>The tips of his ears went as red as his hair as Percy straightened himself, his tone growing indignant. “What? Of course not. Why would you think that?”</p>
<p>Your grin turned coy, but you shrugged your shoulders nonetheless. “No reason,” you replied. You then grabbed your own bag, standing from the seat. “Thanks again, Perce. Five points to Gryffindor.”</p>
<p>You left the room, both of you knowing that you didn’t have any sort of power to give Gryffindor any points.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As usual, please kudos or comment if you enjoyed this! Next Chapter will be up March 16th! ~&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Caught</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fred takes you down a secret tunnel and you get caught in more ways than one.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! I'll probably plug this every time, but this work is directly related to (and inspired by) the ongoing fic by theonlywons, titled Through The Years. You can check that out here! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779693/chapters/70575531)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Year Four.</p>
<p>Telling the twins apart became significantly easier, as your third year came to a close and your fourth started. You carried the picture with you, at first simply so you could study the two and remember the differences pointed out by Percy. But as the time passed and you no longer needed it, you couldn’t quite explain why you kept it with you. Percy was quite the artist-- or at least, his magiced quill had been. The parchment didn’t move like most pictures you were used to, but the sketch of the boys looked remarkably like the twins, and you liked to look at it when nobody else was around.</p>
<p>No longer did you mix up the twins, even those rare times Fred tried to pretend to be George. You also stopped ignoring them. You had guessed quite correctly that ignoring them didn’t really do anything to stop the teasing, so instead you took a different approach. You started to face them head on, at times even catching the two in the act. It felt so much more satisfying to tell them off and the looks on their faces (Fred’s, especially) was rewarding enough.</p>
<p>It was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year that you realized the twins were no longer shorter than you. All last year you relished in the fact that they weren’t as tall as their brothers were (specifically Percy, who towered over you), but they must have shot up over the summer. You noticed as they were walking into Zonko’s, their Slytherin friend with them. You, who had been heading in that same direction, spun on your heel and instead went to the Three Broomsticks.</p>
<p>Ordering a butterbeer from Rosmerta, you picked a seat at random, letting the bustle of the shop keep you distracted. These trips didn’t come enough, but it was nice to see the people of the village going about their daily lives, even with the crowds of students everywhere. A beat passed and your drink was delivered to you. </p>
<p>You were enjoying the warmth of the butterbeer and the chatter around you when the door sounded off once more, the faint tinkling of the bell falling around you. Your eyes pushed up from the bickering couple in the back corner, to see the figure of Fred Weasley walk into the pub. He was alone, his usual posse of company nowhere to be seen. You averted your eyes just as he turned in your direction, just in time to see one of the women in the corner dumping her flagon of firewhiskey on the other.</p>
<p>“Oooh, drama.” Fred whispered in your ear, taking a beat before sliding into the seat across from you. “Any idea what they’re fighting about?” He asked, as though you two spoke on the regular.</p>
<p>You grinned, leaning forward. “I don’t think they actually are. Look.” You nudged your head in their direction, allowing Fred to watch as the two were rushed out of the pub by Rosmerta herself. Their hands were held tightly together, both of their lips pulled back in mischievous grins. “I’m ninety-five percent sure they bet each other on who could get them kicked out faster.”</p>
<p>Fred laughed, tossing his head back as he did so. “If I’m not like them when I’m older, I might as well not be living,” he said in his usual jovial manner. You didn’t think you’d ever tell him as much, but you loved how carefree the twins could be. Fred especially. He seemed to only care about living his life the way he wanted; having as much fun as possible.</p>
<p>“I’ll make sure to put an end to you, if that’s the case,” you joked back, ignoring the summersaults your heart seemed to do when Fred grinned at you. It took you a second too long to realize he was looking at you almost expectantly. Immediately you frowned, looking at him suspiciously. “Can I help y-”</p>
<p>“Are you done, then?” He asked at the same time, looking almost eager for your answer.</p>
<p>Wary, you looked at the dregs of your drinks, before looking back up at Fred. “Why?”</p>
<p>His smile grew wide and he stood from his seat, grabbing your hand and pulling you from where you sat. “Come on, then,” he said, pulling you outside the Three Broomsticks and into the chilly air.</p>
<p>Having no option but to follow, you quickly grabbed your bag, nearly bumping into a few other students as you went. “Where are you taking me?” you asked, suspicion still laced in your tone as you followed him.</p>
<p>Fred held tight to your hand, pulling you down the way. “You’ll see,” he said, just as he led you into Honeydukes.</p>
<p>You rolled your eyes, the smell of chocolate and sugar hitting your senses. “I’ve already come here, I don’t-”</p>
<p>Fred shushed you, laughing a moment later at your indignant look. “Trust me. You haven’t seen what I’m about to show you. Now, quiet. This part requires some stealth.” He looked out through the crowd of students, missing the look you shot him with your eyes. Instead, he spotted a Gryffindor girl who you recognized to be on the Quidditch team with him. “Hey. No time to explain. Make a distraction for us.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t a question and you could tell just how badly this girl wanted to tell him no. You wondered if he did a lot of demanding or if that was just reserved for special people. “I don’t think-”</p>
<p>“Please, Katie. I’ll owe you?” </p>
<p>The girl seemed to debate for a moment before sighing, earning a brief “Excellent,” before Fred was pulling you away from her once more. He hadn’t let go of your hand once and you hated how much you noticed the warmth radiating from it. Fred dragged you into a corner near the front counter, pretending to be interested in the large barrel of Bertie Bott’s. </p>
<p>Hardly a second passed and you heard a clatter and the familiar voice of Katie. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean-”</p>
<p>“This way, quick,” Fred tugged on your hand once more and you followed him behind the counter and down a set of stairs that led to the cellar. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to come up with a protest. Instead, you remained silent, watching as Fred pulled up a nearly invisible trap door, urgently gesturing for you to follow him down it. You took one more look back before easing yourself down into the trap door, finding yourself in a tunnel.</p>
<p>“What is this?” You asked, your eyes tracking across the stone walls that seemed to lead in one long direction.</p>
<p>Fred grinned at you, holding his hand out for yours once more. “A short cut,” he said. As if it were as simple as that.</p>
<p>You ignored his hand, pulling your bag tighter to you. “A short cut.” You repeated, eyeing the boy. “I’m onto you, Weasley.” You finally said, gesturing for Fred to take the lead through the tunnel.</p>
<p>It was a long walk through the tunnel with Fred by your side. At first, it was almost awkward. The Gryffindor boy didn’t seem to know what to say and you weren’t exactly eager to help the conversation along (still wary of whatever long game prank this was going to wind up being). But then Fred started talking about the passage itself and how he and his brother found it thanks to a few students who must have attended Hogwarts many years ago. He told you about the Marauders and their map and how it gave tutelage to the twins and their many years of pranks.</p>
<p>“George has it now, but as far as we know, Filch doesn’t know about this passageway. We’ve never seen him use it, at least.” Fred said, just as the passage started to incline upwards. You figured you were probably nearing the end and were pleasantly surprised that no pranks seemed to be on the itinerary.</p>
<p>“Well-” You had started to speak, but was instantly quieted by Fred. You opened your mouth to ask why when you heard the same thing he must have. Footsteps coming from behind.</p>
<p>“Quick,” he whispered, grabbing your hand once more, pulling you into a tight crevice you wouldn’t have noticed. It was a tight squeeze and Fred was flush against you, his hand covering your mouth to stifle the startled noise that had threatened to bubble up past your lips.</p>
<p>You were painfully aware of the proximity of your bodies and Fred’s breath on your face, but you were even more aware of the footsteps growing louder. Two voices echoed down the hall, masking the sound of your beating heart and Fred’s breathing. George and some girl were talking heartily, moving leisurely through the passageway.</p>
<p>For one still second they stopped, almost directly outside of the crevice you had shoved yourselves through. It would have been fine had they caught you outside the crevice, but you couldn’t take whatever teasing they’d probably start throwing at Fred if they caught you like this. You stifled your own breathing, though Fred’s hand lingered on your mouth. George let out a laugh that echoed around the stone walls and the two moved on, their footsteps soon fading.</p>
<p>Still, you waited. Finally, Fred’s hand moved from your mouth and he let out a breath of relief. You had to look up to really make eye contact now and if you had any breath to do so, you would have cursed. Fred was staring down at you, his normal cheshire-like grin softened. His brown eyes met yours, his hand slipping to cup your cheek.</p>
<p>Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest and you had to swallow the lump in your throat as Fred leaned closer, his breath ghosting across your lips. “Wh-” You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t form. Was he really going to kiss you?</p>
<p>“Freddie, I thought that was you!” The voice that you easily recognized as George’s once again echoed down the passageway, startling both you and Fred.</p>
<p>You cried out in pain as you jerked your head back, hitting it on the stone. Fred’s warmth pulled away from you, stepping almost sheepishly out of the crevice. “How’d you know?” He asked, his voice just as steady and playful as it usually was. Not a hint of nervousness was coming from the boy.</p>
<p>You could hear, more than see, George tap a piece of parchment that you assumed was the notorious map. “We’re close enough to the school, Fred,” he said.</p>
<p>You rubbed your head, unable to see the look Fred must have given George in response. You almost wished there was another crevice or another secret hole you could slip through to avoid the other two. Hell, you weren’t entirely sure you could face Fred after that.</p>
<p>You could hear George laugh again, before two pairs of footsteps started to move away once more. “Better be quick! Filch won’t stay on the fourth floor forever,” George seemed to call over his shoulder. </p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, you pulled yourself out of the crevice just in time to see the two retreating figures disappear from view, the Gryffindor and Slytherin robes clear enough from the light on their wands. </p>
<p>As soon as they were out of view, Fred turned on you again, wiggling his eyebrows. “Where were we?” He asked, stepping into your space. </p>
<p>Embarrassed, you pushed him away from you with a groan. “Let’s go,” you said after a beat, ignoring the sound of disappointment he made. This time, the silence was deafening, and it was your turn to make conversation. “Hey, I thought she hated him,” you said, gesturing to the path ahead where George and the Slytherin girl were.</p>
<p>“Hate? Why?” Fred laughed, sounding more amused at the question over anything.</p>
<p>You rolled your eyes, gripping tighter to the bag that hung at your side. “Didn’t she tackle him off his broom during the last Quidditch match? You know, before the whole Bludger incident.” </p>
<p>Instead of answering your question, Fred wheeled his attention to you, his smirk wider than ever. “You came to see us play.” It wasn’t a question and that irritated you more than anything else.</p>
<p>“No,” you insisted, picking up the pace. “It’s just, know your enemy and all that.” It was a lie if there ever was one, but Fred didn’t have to know that. You’d take it to your grave, if you had to.</p>
<p>Fortunately for you, the path had finally come to an end, the backside of a statue blocking the view of the castle. You stepped back so Fred could push through first. Giving you the all clear, he helped you step through the end of the tunnel. The statue started to close as soon as you were through, nearly taking your bag with it. Quickly you yanked it out of the way, groaning as the contents upended on the floor.</p>
<p>“Bloody hell,” you grumbled, ducking down to the ground to start piling everything back into the bag. </p>
<p>Fred joined you on the ground, handing you a few quills that had gotten away from you. He grabbed some loose parchment, his eyes falling on it as he held it out to you. You reached to accept the parchment, but Fred was quick, snatching it back out of your grip. “What’s this?” He asked, amusement reigning in his tone.</p>
<p>“What?” You asked quickly, seeing the outline of Percy’s drawing through the candle light on the walls. </p>
<p>Fred peered at the drawing with a grin before showing it to you, quirking an eyebrow. “You carry a drawing of me and George?” There was a glint in his eyes that you decided you would hate. Forever. </p>
<p>You snatched the parchment from him, glowering. “I don’t carry it everywhere,” you said defensively, looking at the drawing. “Percy drew it and I didn’t want to throw away something he worked hard on.” At least your lies were getting better. You shoved the parchment, as well as the other spilled contents, back into the bag. </p>
<p>Standing, you looked at Fred, who had stood as well. He seemed to be searching for words. Words that you probably didn’t want to hear. At the same time, you both spoke.</p>
<p>“--Well, I better get going.”</p>
<p>“--Is Percy really your favorite?”</p>
<p>Silence followed and for a second you stared at Fred, surprised to see sincerity in his eyes. It looked like he actually cared about his question and whatever the answer was. You… didn’t know if you could answer that, though.</p>
<p>He opened his lips once more, but already your feet were pushing you away, your hand waving at him as you retreated as fast as you could. “Bye, Fred!”</p>
<p>You got to the Hufflepuff Common room in record time, all but leaping down a few flights of stairs as you disappeared from Fred’s sight and into the only truly safe place in the castle. You were out of breath when you tapped the proper barrel, allowing you entry into the warm space. Nobody really paid you mind, except for Cedric, who was waving at you by the fire.</p>
<p>“Saved you a seat,” he said, kicking at the seat directly next to him. He had homework splayed out on his lap, his inkwell balanced oh so carefully on the arm of the chair he sat in. </p>
<p>You plopped down next to him, mind elsewhere, as you watched him write out a sentence on the parchment he was to be working on. Your eyes drifted to the fire, your mind wandering back to that cave and Fred crowding into your space. You thought back to the warmth of his breath on your lips and the glint in his eyes. You wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted. A small part of you supplied that it was probably another prank; that Fred was just going to lead you on before laughing in your face.</p>
<p>Still, your mind kept going back to those few seconds and that stupid boy.</p>
<p>“-lo?” You hadn’t realized that Cedric was trying to get your attention until there was a hand waving in front of you, snapping you from your thoughts.</p>
<p>“Huh?” You looked up, blinking rapidly as if that’d help clear your brain of those stupid thoughts.</p>
<p>Cedric’s concerned expression turned to amusement. “I was asking if you’d done Lockhart’s essay yet. I need two more ways to describe his smile and I’ve run out of synonyms for ‘white.’” He looked at you expectantly.</p>
<p>“Er…” You thought back to your own half-finished essay assigned by Lockhart on how he managed to disarm both the masses <i>and</i> a group of vampires with his award winning smile. You just couldn’t remember what you said about your professor’s smile, because your mouth kept going back to the uptick of Fred’s lips and his hand on your arm.</p>
<p>“Hey, are you okay?” Cedric asked, once more snapping you out of your thoughts.</p>
<p>“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” you said, shaking your head to clear your mind. Cedric gave you a look and you knew he didn’t really believe you, but you barreled on. “Really, I’m fine. Give me one second.”</p>
<p>He cocked an eyebrow, but allowed you to pull your bag in front of your feet. You had haphazardly thrown everything back in, so it took a good amount of digging to find the paper, a few of your books and spare parchments winding up on the common room floor. Finally you found the right essay, half wrinkled from the abandoned disregard you gave it.</p>
<p>Ignoring the rest of your bag that was splayed on the floor, you started pouring through the parchment, looking for some good analogies. “I feel like I pulled some directly from <i>Magical Me</i>,” you hummed, scanning the paper. “Have you used ‘dazzling’?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Cedric chimed in, no longer in your eye of sight thanks to your essay.</p>
<p>“Bright is a pretty good one. How about, sparkling?”</p>
<p>Cedric let out a snort, but quickly responded. “That was my first one.”</p>
<p>“Luminous?” It was the last one you had used, knowing the self-centered professor would appreciate being compared to the stars in such a way.</p>
<p>“That’s a good one,” Cedric responded, his tone seemingly distant, though he was still seated next to you.</p>
<p>You looked over at him, from the side of the parchment, eyes bugging out when you saw he was holding a familiar picture. Fred and George grinned up from the wrinkled parchment, looking worn but handsome.</p>
<p>Cedric caught you looking and grinned, setting it on his lap so the both of you could see it in all of its glory. “Something you need to tell me?” He asked, looking almost playful.</p>
<p>You reached forward to grab it from him, but he was faster (the annoying sign of a good Seeker) and was able to get it above his head, holding it just out of reach. “That’s not what you think,” you said quickly.</p>
<p>“No?” He looked up, then back to you. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, you know. I won’t judge.”</p>
<p>You had been friends since your first year and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for something as trivial as a crush on one of the twins, but you found yourself stopping in thought regardless. Who said it had to be a crush? Cedric hadn’t said the words and you certainly weren’t thinking it.</p>
<p>Except maybe you were. Maybe you did have a crush. After all, you couldn’t stop thinking about his smile and how maybe it wasn’t so bad being pranked, if you at least got to hear his laugh. </p>
<p>You frowned, settling deeper into your seat. Did you have a crush on Fred Weasley? You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. Then closed it, again.</p>
<p>Finally. “Okay,” you said, holding your hand out for the drawing of the boys.</p>
<p>Confusion bloomed over Cedric’s expression before a knowing one replaced it and he placed the parchment in your open palm, watching as you folded it up and returned it to your bag. (You’d have to find a new home for it, you passively thought.)</p>
<p>He leaned against his closed fist, waiting; keeping quiet as you leaned in and lowered your voice.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what it is,” you admitted, sighing. “I hate him, but…” But it wasn’t exactly hate, was it?</p>
<p>Cedric seemed to be picking up what you were putting down. “You find him oddly charming, don’t you?” There was a brief pause where you nodded, before he added. “Just to clarify… which one?”</p>
<p>“Fred,” you groaned in response, flopping back into your seat, forgetting to keep your voice down. “They couldn’t be any more different, honestly. Once you see the differences, you can’t stop. I mean, Fred basically instigates most of their pranks. He’s more mischievous, where George is surprisingly calm.”</p>
<p>Cedric set his homework off to the side as he listened to you. “Okay. Fred, then,” he said. “I don’t get it, though. You’re always going on about how angry he makes you. So what changed?”</p>
<p>“Me? Him? I don’t know,” you sighed, rubbing your temples. “I-” You cut yourself off, trying to find a way to explain the pounding of your heart. You weren’t even sure if these thoughts were merely brought on by what had happened earlier that day, or if they had been passively in your mind for awhile. “I think he was going to kiss me.”</p>
<p>“<i>What?</i>” Cedric jolted in his seat, nearly sending his ink flying off of the arm. It was only his quick Seeker reflexes that caught the bottle before it could topple over.</p>
<p>Quickly, you explained what had happened on your way back from Hogsmeade, leaving no detail out. Cedric hung onto your every word, humming a response every once in a while to show he was still keeping up. When you finished, you slumped back into your seat once more, sighing.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Ced. Maybe I’m just overthinking things. It could have meant nothing and I could just be feeling this way because I thought he was going to kiss me.”</p>
<p>Though Cedric was far more popular than you were, you knew that neither of you had been kissed yet. It wasn’t something you talked about often, but there was an unspoken pact that you’d tell each other if it ever happened.</p>
<p>He shrugged, turning his eyes to the fire. “I mean, maybe? You don’t have to know right now, though, do you?”</p>
<p>You hadn’t thought about it like that, but you knew he was right. It wasn’t like you were hoping to profess some undying love for the Weasley boy or anything. If you had a crush on him, you had time to figure it out.</p>
<p>You shook your head in response, before kicking at his leg. It was the only sign that the conversation was over. Then, you said, “Use blinding. Lockhart will eat that shit up.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A big thanks to everyone who's kept with this so far. &lt;3 Next chapter will be up March 30th!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Falling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You were never fond of flying. Fred changes that.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! I'll probably plug this every time, but this work is directly related to (and inspired by) the ongoing fic by theonlywons, titled Through The Years. You can check that out here! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779693/chapters/70575531)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Summer break.</p>
<p>It was a hot summer day; the mid-July sun beating down on the village of Ottery St. Catchpole and its inhabitants. You were only miles away, drinking a cold glass of pumpkin juice, while Amos Diggory threw another garden gnome over their white picket fence. He was grumbling, something about how they only kept coming back because the neighbors kept coddling the pests. Cedric had gone to fetch his homework, the two of you intending to knock it out early so you could enjoy the rest of the summer in peace.</p>
<p>Your parents didn’t often let you go so far across the country during the summer holiday (after all, it was the only time they got to see you, nowadays) but they made an exception for Cedric. It helped, you knew, that he was a wildly successful Quidditch player. You wondered sometimes if they’d rather have Cedric as a kid, but they didn’t try very hard to hide their disdain for anybody who wasn’t a Gryffindor.</p>
<p>The last supper you had with them all but confirmed that.</p>
<p>“Oh, if he was a Gryfindor, he’d be perfect for you,” your mother had crooned.</p>
<p>Your father nodded, as if he had agreed. “It’s a shame, he’s such a strapping young lad.”</p>
<p>You hummed as if you agreed, only to say, “Nah, it’s fine. Anyways, it’d ruin his five year plan with Cho Chang if we dated.”</p>
<p>You had played the words off all casual like, but you couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation. You had kind of assumed that all these years of avoiding the broomsticks and Quidditch and literally getting sorted into what they called the ‘leftovers house’ would get them off your back. But here they were, still trying to push you into their idea of a perfect life.</p>
<p>There were only a few people you could think of that fit into their little mold and you weren’t quite ready to delve deeper into that.<br/></p>
<p>The sound of the screen door slamming shut behind you snapped you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Cedric with an armful of books, a guilty look on his face.</p>
<p>“Have you done <i>anything</i>, yet?” You asked, moving over on the porch step to give him room to settle down next to you.</p>
<p>He plopped the books down between the two of you, huffing out a sigh. “I did the reading,” he explained. “I just haven’t done the rest of it.”</p>
<p>“Wow, I didn’t realize you were a slacker,” you teased, pulling out the last of your own homework. You had significantly less than him, but that was in part due to your parents, who were always going on about success. “What have you been doing, then?”</p>
<p>Cedric turned his head the other way and coughed through his answer, making it impossible to hear. You could tell from his cheeky grin that it wasn’t an actual valid answer, at least.</p>
<p>You cocked your head, kicking at his legs in an attempt to jolt him off of the step. “What was that?” You asked, leaning on his stack of books to put your ear closer to him.</p>
<p>Cedric started mumbling, going on about gnomes and chores. But somewhere in between that you barely managed to catch the phrase that he probably intended to hide from you completely. “-dditch with the Weas-” was all you managed to hear, but it was enough.</p>
<p>“There it is,” you said with a nod. Really, you weren’t surprised. Cedric had always loved Quidditch and though he put a lot of effort into his school work, Quidditch would always come first. There was just one part of that sentence that didn’t make sense. “Wait, who did you say you played with?” You had only caught ‘weas’ but you didn’t want to assume the worst right from the start.</p>
<p>The sheepish look in Cedric’s eyes cleared up any doubt you might have had. At your glare he quickly replaced it with an apologetic one, raising his hands up in defense. “They’re my neighbors! We’ve been playing together since I was just a lad! You can’t be mad at me over this,” he said quickly.</p>
<p>And you weren’t, really. But seeing Cedric look so sorry was funny enough that you kept the glare up for another few seconds before switching it out with a smile. “It’s fine, Ced. But if you aren’t careful, your grades will start slipping. Chang’s a Ravenclaw, isn’t she?” You adjusted your arm on top of his books for good measure and laughed when he hastily pulled one out from under your arm.</p>
<p>The two of you managed to get about an hour of studying in, in between Amos refilling your Pumpkin Juice and asking what you wanted for supper, before you were interrupted by the sound of raucous yelling.</p>
<p>“Oi, Diggory!” You managed to make out, your head snapping up to see two redheads staring at the two of you. “Wanna play?” One was the girl that you recognized to be Ginny, who seemed to carry a lot more confidence than she had during the last year at school. The other was a far too familiar twin. Unfortunately from this distance you couldn’t tell exactly which one it was. (Hey, even wise advice only got you so far when it came to eyesight.)</p>
<p>Cedric waved in acknowledgement before turning to you, clasping his hands together in a half-assed attempt to plead with you.</p>
<p>The two Weasley’s got closer, Ginny calling out once more. “Last chance before we go on vacation,” she said, a broomstick already slung over her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Vacation?” You asked, momentarily ignoring Cedric’s puppy-dog eyes.</p>
<p>They were close enough now that you could tell it was George, who spoke next. “Dad won the Daily Prophet Galleon Draw, so we’re gonna go to Egypt and visit Bill.”</p>
<p>“Ah.” You closed the book in your hand, piling it up on top of the parchment you had been working on. Finally turning back to Cedric, you could see the wide grin on his face. “Alright, let’s go.”</p>
<p>Cedric had gone into the house before you could even finish your sentence, presumably to grab his broomstick.</p>
<p>“You can play too, if you want,” George offered as you stood.</p>
<p>You shrugged, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Nah, I’m no good. Besides, losing to Cedric is one thing,” you looked over your shoulder to see Cedric returning, broomstick in hand. “But I don’t know if you could handle losing against two Hufflepuffs.” </p>
<p>George’s laugh was softer than his brother’s, but you didn’t have any time to dwell on that because Cedric was at your side, broomstick in hand. “Gotta be back by sunfall, but that gives us plenty of time,” he said as the four of you marched up the hill and towards the Weasley’s home.</p>
<p>It was quite a walk, the heat beating down on the four of you as you traversed across the outskirts of the town. Ginny suggested flying, knowing it would be faster, but you declined. You let the neighbors make light conversation with each other during the half hour walk. You found yourself almost wishing you had agreed to fly when you saw the peak of what must have been the Weasley’s home.</p>
<p>“Welcome to The Burrow,” Ginny said, gesturing at the towering home as it came further into view.</p>
<p>The house itself was a miracle to behold. Lopsided and leaning, you found yourself wondering what kind of magic was being used to keep the place suspended as it was. Each room seemed to have been placed on there separately, like the home had been expanded over and over just to fit everyone. It wasn’t just the house that was brimming with chaos, though. Chickens scattered the lawn and those same Gnomes that had been chased from the Diggory’s yard were peeking up from their holes to see who the new arrivals were.</p>
<p>Three other Weasley’s were outside, already taken to the air. Your eyes landed fairly easy on Fred, who couldn’t seem to decide how he felt about you being there. You watched as his expression quickly cycled through confusion and what could only be described as a scowl before finally landing on his cheshire-like grin.</p>
<p>“Perfect!” He called out, landing near your group of four. His arm slung across your shoulder, as if you were old buddies. “You can be on my team. Percy’s rubbish, he doesn’t have to play.”</p>
<p>You pulled out from his arm, ignoring the way your heart pounded against your chest. “No,” you said quickly. “I’m not playing.”</p>
<p>“How come?” Fred asked, just as quickly.</p>
<p>“I don’t want to,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. You could feel everybody’s eyes on you, but you kept your own trained on Fred. It was your own little staring contest and you planned to win.</p>
<p>Fred opened his mouth to speak again, most likely to protest, but you cut him off before he could get the chance.</p>
<p>“Besides, Percy looks like he’s itching to play. Aren’t you, Perce?” Only then did you take your eyes off of the twin, looking to Percy.</p>
<p>Percy couldn’t have cared otherwise, that much was obvious, but you sent him a pleading look, hoping he’d give in. A long second passed before you heard him sigh, drooping his head. “I can only play a few rounds. I have to pack for the trip,” he said.</p>
<p>You ignored Fred’s groan, mouthing a thanks out to Percy.</p>
<p>The Weasleys (and Cedric) kicked off, splitting into what seemed to be their typical teams. Fred, George, and Percy played on one team and though the twins worked well together, they couldn’t seem to coordinate with Percy (who was, truly, rubbish). You knew how good Cedric was and Ron was decent enough, but the biggest surprise came from Ginny. She was young and it was clear she only really played with her brothers, but she was good. Possibly on the same level as Charlie (given enough practice), who you had seen play during your first few years at Hogwarts.</p>
<p>They made you referee, but that wasn’t really necessary. They fell into an easy rotation, one that you didn’t need to insert yourself into. They played for about an hour, only stopping when Percy decided it was time to bail. Cedric’s team had won, but it wasn’t really a fair fight. Cedric had the better broomstick and Fred kept leaving Percy hanging high and dry in favor of flying uncomfortably close to you.</p>
<p>The boys were just landing when a plump red-headed woman leaned her head out of the screen door. “I made lunch; come eat!” She called out, popping her head back inside.</p>
<p>Fred sidled up next to you, intentionally bumping his arm into yours. “Mum always makes extra when <i>Diggory</i> comes over. Join us?”</p>
<p>You raised an eyebrow, mostly at the way he said Cedric’s last name, before looking to Cedric. The two of you exchanged looks. Yours was inquisitive, asking if he didn’t mind staying for lunch. His was stupid and almost suggestive, probably implying that this would be a good opportunity to get close to Fred.</p>
<p>“Yeah, alright,” you finally said, ignoring the way Fred’s smile sent butterflies around your empty stomach.</p>
<p>Mrs. Weasley (“Call me Molly, dear.”) was a sweet woman. She had made sandwiches for everybody, plating them up as you walked into the house. You grabbed two before making your way to the table, picking a chair at random. Fred slid in next to you before Cedric could even get his sandwich. You exchanged another look with your friend, who seemed amused at this development. You rolled your eyes pointedly, turning to the food.</p>
<p>“So,” Fred kicked at your leg, childishly trying to get your attention. You looked at him, trying to keep the glare on your face, as he continued. “Why are you here?”</p>
<p>Your brow furrowed, the confusion all too clear. “George and Ginny came and got us?” You replied, gesturing loosely to the two other red-heads that were eating. George had sat next to Fred, but Ginny had seated herself on the other side of the table and was talking animatedly with Ron.</p>
<p>“S’not what I meant,” he said through a mouthful of food.</p>
<p>You sighed, turning your body so you could face Fred properly, momentarily ignoring your sandwich. “Then what <i>did</i> you mean?”</p>
<p>He swallowed, looking at Cedric, before looking back at you. “Why were you at Diggory’s?”</p>
<p>There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but that didn’t stop you from grinning. Your lips pulled back into a smile that rivaled Fred’s usual teasing one. “What, are you jealous?” You asked.</p>
<p>He had gone for another bite, but he stopped himself short. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that the red blotching on to the tips of his ears was caused by you. His reply was as quick as ever, even if he wouldn’t look you in the eyes. “‘Course not. Just wondering if he had to bribe you into being his friend.”</p>
<p>You tried to exchange another look with Cedric, but he was deep in a conversation with Ron. Instead, you found Ginny staring at Fred, a mischievous grin on her face similar to one you’d seen the twins wear. Realizing an uncomfortable pause was starting to grow between you, you opened your mouth--</p>
<p>Only to be interrupted by the same red-headed girl. “Oh! Is this <i>potato girl</i>?”</p>
<p>Any semblance of high ground that you might have had was wiped from under your feet as the heat rose to your own cheeks. You weren’t angry about the incident anymore, but the embarrassment came far too easily. “The one and only,” you finally said, begrudgingly.</p>
<p>Fred, who had been awfully silent, seemed to recover with a barking laugh. “Sorry, I was a little too proud of that prank from our first year. It wasn’t even that funny, but the look on your face was-”</p>
<p>You shot him a look and he stopped, almost bashfully, while his twin laughed in his stead.</p>
<p>The rest of the meal passed without event, the conversation turning to one of next year’s World Cup. (Ron was certain that England would get to play, but Ginny didn’t think they’d be able to hold their own against the Bulgarian team, which was supposed to be recruiting a hot new Seeker.) You expertly tuned them out, finishing your food.</p>
<p>Fred and George walked the both of you back to Cedric’s. Fred kept trying to get Cedric to reveal secret Hufflepuff Quidditch maneuvers, as if Cedric was loose-lipped enough to tell. You knew a few yourself, just from listening to Cedric talk, but you were just as likely to say anything. </p>
<p>You hung back, watching the two with a soft smile. George moved into step with you, looking frighteningly attentive.</p>
<p>“Can I ask you a question?” He asked, his voice quiet.</p>
<p>Your mind started quickly unreeling, playing out your worst fears. There were too many questions he could ask that would so easily expose your crush on Fred. It was just a crush and it was so small that it probably didn’t matter, but you couldn’t bear the idea of him ever finding out. Your response came out noncommittal; a quiet hum just loud enough to reach his ears. You couldn’t look at him.</p>
<p>“What’s up with the flying thing? Are you scared of heights?”</p>
<p>You knew that George was the more sincere of the brothers, but you still hadn’t expected a question like that from one of the Weasley twins. You were surprised he even thought twice about it, let alone that he cared enough to ask. You were startled enough to answer honestly, instead of avoiding the question like you usually did. “No, it’s not that. It’s…” </p>
<p>You struggled to find the right words. Half of the reason was just too complicated to say out loud, to a boy you barely knew. But you were scared. Scared that you’d get stuck going down a path that your parents carved for you. You were scared that they’d only like you if you were on a broom, so part of you had avoided flying for as long as you could possibly bother. </p>
<p>You stuck with explaining the second half, which was a lot simpler to say. “I don’t know what it is, but broomsticks don’t agree with me. It’s- You guys weren’t there, I think you had your class with Slytherin, but remember in our first year when Madame Hooch taught everybody how to fly?”</p>
<p>He nodded.</p>
<p>“Well. It was the first time I’d gotten on a broom since I was a kid. And when I say it was a disaster, I’m not exaggerating. I couldn’t get the thing to do what I told it to; it nearly flew me into the Forbidden Forest. But fortunately,” you sighed, “I got smacked off the thing by the Whomping Willow before I could get that far.”</p>
<p>George looked at you, nearly tripping over a root from his distraction. “That was you?”</p>
<p>“Yep.” You replied, remembering how quickly that story was spread throughout the school. “It’s just not worth it to keep trying, you know? Quidditch isn’t a passion of mine, like the three of you.” You laughed at the look on George’s face, before quickly adding. “Seriously, it’s fine.”</p>
<p>Year Five.</p>
<p>You really couldn’t have given two shits about Quidditch, but there was something about the way Fred sulked after losing to Hufflepuff that brought you undeniable joy. You could see it in the way he would glare at Cedric or any time you saw him running off to practice. You were sure part of that came from knowing that Harry’s broomstick (which had been the only one on the team to compare to Slytherin) was destroyed, but you found special joy in remembering that exact sour frown from the last time he lost against Diggory.</p>
<p>“Hey.” You almost never approached the twins yourself. They were always up to some shenanigans that you wanted no part of and… well, Fred approached you often enough. But it had been a week since he’d spoken to you and as cute as you found him when he lost, you kind of missed his playful jibes. “You’re not still sore that you lost, are you?” You asked, sidling next to Fred as he walked out of the Great Hall.</p>
<p>He was on his own and you could only assume his brother was off running around with that Slytherin girl. You weren’t sure what they were to each other, but they seemed close enough that anybody who paid enough attention assumed they were dating. You didn’t want to make assumptions either, but you saw how George looked at her.</p>
<p>“We would have won if they’d given us a rematch,” Fred grumbled, sparing you a glance as he continued to walk.</p>
<p>You kept pace with him, shrugging. “Ced said they asked for a rematch. McGonagall said no.” </p>
<p>You were fairly good at reading his expression, but you couldn’t quite place the intention of his brows pulling together, the frown settling deep on his face. Maybe he was just still sore about McGonagall turning down the rematch.</p>
<p>“Hey.” You bumped his shoulder, interrupting whatever it was that was going through his brain. “You busy?”</p>
<p>His complicated expression turned to one of confusion and you grabbed his hand, pulling him down the flight of stairs that led to the entryway.</p>
<p>“Come on, you look like you need to blow off steam.”</p>
<p>You took Fred’s silence (as unusual as it was) as approval, so you pulled him by his hand out of the castle and onto the grounds.</p>
<p>“Where are we going?” He finally asked. He was more than capable of keeping stride with you, his legs now longer than yours.</p>
<p>“Quidditch pitch,” you offered. You still held onto his hand, ignoring the way the warmth of it made your heart race. You tried to keep up the pace, if only to keep up the illusion that you were pulling him against his will.</p>
<p>It was the most fleeting of moments where Fred was silent and you worried he was going to call you out, that he was going to shoot you down before you even had a chance to make your suggestion. Instead, he said, “I thought you hated flying.”</p>
<p>There was no hesitation from your reply. “I do. But you don’t.” After all, it wasn’t as if you would be getting on a broom.</p>
<p>You both fell silent once again as you marched across the tidied lawn, only stopping when you reached the shed that contained the school brooms. You hadn’t thought to ask Fred to grab his, nor did you think you had the courage to wait long enough for him to retrieve it from the Gryffindor tower. Whatever. This would do.</p>
<p>Dropping his hand, you opened the door of the shed and gestured for him to grab a broom. He did, turning to you when he was back out of the shed. “And what are you going to do, while I <i>blow off steam</i>?”</p>
<p>You shrugged, pulling your robes tighter around you. It was a little brisk outside, but the pitch was empty. Most teams wouldn’t practice until much later. “Watch?” You gestured to the stands, painfully aware of how stupid you sounded.</p>
<p>Fred laughed and your heart did a little somersault. “No,” he said, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“No?” You swallowed the lump growing in your throat, your eyes moving back to the stands, then back to Fred, who had taken that time to get into your space.</p>
<p>“No,” he replied, offering you his hand. “You’ll fly with me.”</p>
<p>It was chilly outside, but you could feel the heat move through your cheeks, your mouth falling open as you tried to find any sort of response that could make sense. You were struggling to find any sort of words, with him standing so close. “I- I… No, I couldn’t,” you finally managed to get out.</p>
<p>Fred frowned, the same hand he had offered coming up to rest on your arm. “<i>Hey</i>. I won’t let it throw you off.” His voice was so sincere and you wanted to believe him, but you couldn’t stop reminding yourself of all the times the broom had reacted so poorly to you.</p>
<p>There was also the never-ending thoughts that some day you’d lose all sense of yourself, trying to be what your parents wanted. It was easier to just be afraid of the broom. “I don’t know. I think they can sense fear.” You played it off with a laugh, but you had meant it.</p>
<p>Fred’s hand slid down your arm, leaving a trail of warmth. It came to rest at the tips of your fingers, where he left the offer open once more. “Do you trust me?”</p>
<p>You stared at his hand, the seconds ticking by as you tried not to think too hard about that question. You did. Trust him, that was. Probably more than you ever should, for a guy who was so keen on pranking people. But you trusted him regardless. Silently, you accepted his hand and nodded.</p>
<p>“<i>Excellent</i>.” In the flash of a moment, Fred was straddling the broomstick. He tugged you closer to the broom, grinning at you. “Come on, then.”</p>
<p>Hesitating, you let go of his hand and got on behind him, terrified that he could hear the constant thudding of your beating heart. You pulled yourself a little closer, grateful for the warmth, your hands settling at his sides.</p>
<p>Fred gave you a quick look over his shoulder, the grin still resting on his features. “Hold on tight, okay?” He waited, just long enough for you to wrap your arms around his torso, before he kicked off.</p>
<p>You clung tighter to him, pressing your face between his shoulder blades. You could feel the temperature change as you rose higher and higher, the wind light against your cheeks. You prepared yourself for the worst, for the broom to fall out from the two of you or for Fred to lose control of it. But seconds turned to a minute and nothing terrible happened.</p>
<p>“You gotta see this!” Fred’s voice was carried back to you by the wind, sounding almost distant. Still holding tight, you lifted your head, allowing yourself to look down.</p>
<p>The Quidditch Pitch looked beautiful from this vantage point. The empty stands devoid of any house color looked so different than they did during a match, but the well-kept grass just looked like a field of green from here. A few clouds hung in the air and you wondered briefly if you could go high enough to touch them. </p>
<p>You shook that thought from your head quickly, turning your attention to Fred. “It’s beautiful!” You shouted, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you otherwise.</p>
<p>You could hear his gleeful laugh without straining, though. “Now you know what you’re missing out on!” He called back, looping around.</p>
<p>Your grip around his torso, which had been iron tight, loosened just a smidge as you allowed yourself to relax. This didn’t mean you’d necessarily ever try flying by yourself, but maybe it wasn’t so bad as a whole. Flying with Fred was… nice.</p>
<p>Placing your cheek against his back, you leaned into him once more, looking out as the two of you continued to fly around the pitch. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt this happy.</p>
<p>“Thank you.” You didn’t bother to raise your voice that time, part of you hoping that Fred wouldn’t even hear it. If he did, he didn’t respond. He flew you around for the rest of the free period, only landing when you tugged on his sweater and mentioned lunch.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please kudos or comment if you're enjoying this!! Next chapter will be up April 13th ^-^</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Not a Chapter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hey guys! Life has gotten a little rough for me, this past few weeks, and though I've written <i>some</i> of chapter six, it isn't nearly done enough to post. I'm posting this announcement to let you know that I still intend to get chapter six (and others!) out as soon as I can, but my biweekly posting schedule might be thrown off for a smidge while I play catch up. Thank you so much for all the support you've given me these past few months!</p>
<p>I hope to get the next chapter finished as soon as possible, but to keep myself sane (and hopefully allow myself to write ahead), I will still be keeping with the posting schedule as much as possible. That being said, I'll try to get chapter six out on April 27th, pending any further complications.</p>
<p>With love,<br/>Minto :)</p>
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